The Prince (The Florentine 0.5)

Gabriel drew her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. “That’s true, but it isn’t like you to despair.”

“I’m not in despair. I just don’t want to go home.”

“I don’t want to go home either, but summer has to end eventually.”

Gabriel brushed a light kiss against her hair before pulling her to her feet. As the music continued, he walked her to the center of the Piazza. Then he took her in his arms and began to sway to the music.

She closed her eyes, floating over the stones beneath their feet as he expertly moved them.

Sudden feelings of both anger and pity bubbled up inside the Prince. He felt anger toward the professor, who clearly had a wife he didn’t deserve, and pity for Julianne, who probably was suffering because of her illness.

From his vantage point, he was no longer close enough to examine their scents or hear their words as they continued dancing. He could see the professor tighten his grip on his wife’s waist, his brow wrinkled as if in apology. His words were whispered.

Julianne opened her eyes and whispered back.

Frustrated, the Prince threw caution to the wind and approached them, entering the Piazza. He threaded himself through the crowd until he was close enough to discern the professor’s voice.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up to me,” Julianne replied. “I’m just happy you brought me here.”

“I’m the reason you’re constantly falling back to earth.” Gabriel’s expression was earnest and searching. “I drag you from the stars—from where you belong.”

She gave him a sad smile. “It’s the human condition. We’re bound to fall.”

He stopped dancing, his eyes boring into hers. “You should never have to fall, Julianne.”

The Prince observed the tender exchange with creeping resentment, turning on his heel when the professor began to kiss his wife in full view of everyone.

The Prince had looked for signs of duplicity in the professor’s words and deeds. He’d even gone so far as to have Pierre ask the human intelligence network to discover if the professor had a mistress stashed away somewhere. But he’d discovered Gabriel Emerson loved his wife a great deal and was faithful to her.

At least the professor was aware of the disparity between his vices and Julianne’s virtues, despite his arrogance and pride.

When the last strains of Verdi faded into the summer air, the Emersons returned to the Loggia, sitting side by side on the stone bench. Now the Prince could both see and hear them clearly.

Gabriel’s fingers traced the folds of his wife’s silk dress in a motion the Prince found both inappropriate and erotic. Once again, he found he could not look away.

“I wish I could sit in this piazza forever.” Julianne gazed at the elaborate fountain nearby, and the elderly couple who were standing next to it, holding hands.

Gabriel followed her gaze, the edges of his lips turning up.

“If you remained in this piazza, you’d be cold when winter comes.”

“Not if I had you to warm me.”

A smile pulled at his mouth. “I’m glad you find me useful, if only as a warming device.”

“You’re also an excellent tour guide.”

He tapped his chin. “Another way in which I’m useful.”

“And since your Italian is better than mine, you’re an effective translator.”

He brought his mouth to within inches of hers. “Shall I translate my favorite words? Labbra? Lingua? Seno?”

The Prince contemplated revealing himself, if only to end the inane commentary he was being forced to witness.

Gabriel gave his wife a heated look. “You’ve forgotten the most important way in which I’m useful.”

“And that is?”

He lowered his voice. “As your lover.”

He nipped at her finger slightly, before drawing it into his mouth. He toyed with her for a moment, laving her skin with his tongue, before releasing her.

“I’m afraid that if you persist in staying in this piazza, my capacity as a lover will be sorely diminished.”

“Diminished?”

“For example, I couldn’t possibly do this in a piazza.” He brought their lips together.

Julia hummed her appreciation and Gabriel deepened their connection, his tongue stroking hers.

The Prince turned away as the professor’s hands moved to his wife’s face, their eyes closed in bliss.

There had been a time when he’d tasted such bliss and almost possessed it, but God or fate had conspired against him. His desire to love and connect with another person died when he ceased to be human.

As he counted the stars in the sky in an effort to occupy his time while the couple kissed leisurely, he wondered why he’d risked the security of his beloved principality in order to spy on a ridiculous pair of lovers.

“And I couldn’t possibly do this.” Gabriel spoke against his wife’s mouth as his thumb glided down the side of her breast.

She shivered.

“Or this.” His hand slid over the curve of her waist and around to her lower back. He ran a single finger just above the waistband of her panties, almost as if he were contemplating their removal.

“Or this.” His eyes suddenly alight, he covered her bare knee with his palm before coaxing her legs to part.

“Move your hand any higher and we’re going to get arrested,” she whispered.

Yes, please get arrested, thought the Prince. Anything to end this sickening display.

The professor’s eyes appeared to darken. “It will be worth it.”

She placed her hand over his, stopping the slow, teasing ascent.

“I think we’ve been the subject of enough scandals, Professor.”

“Then you’re going to have to leave this piazza before I slip my hand under your dress and show you what comes next.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Where would we go?”

“I know a much quieter piazza nearby.”

She stifl

ed a laugh. “Is that the best you can do?”

“There’s always the hotel. I have a beautiful room.”

“Really?”

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“It isn’t as beautiful as you, of course, but it isn’t entirely unfortunate.”

She lowered her eyes and blushed.

The Prince merely scowled beneath his hood, willing the Emersons to stand up and leave already.

The professor squeezed Julianne’s hand. “Nothing compares to your beauty, not even this city. Florence has exceptional architecture and art but Brunelleschi’s dome lacks your compassion. And no painting in the Uffizi could ever capture the beauty and warmth of your love.”

The Prince had had enough. The maddening, overly sweet exchange had almost propelled him to take off his Franciscan robes and confront the Emersons, if only to silence them.

Then he heard the sound of Julianne’s laughter. The happy sound stopped him in his tracks.

“Are you flirting with me, Professor?”

“This isn’t flirtation, Julianne. This is seduction. And I won’t rest until I enjoy the wonder that is your body, lying underneath me again.”

He kissed the shell of her ear, before moving down to the side of her neck. He pressed unhurried kisses against her skin, brushing against her collarbone.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispered, his hand caressing her side. “Think of the delights that await you.”

She hummed softly. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

He stood, holding out his hand.

“I’ll do more than tell you. But I’m afraid you’ll have to leave this piazza.”

Julia glanced over his shoulder at the fountain.

She sighed. “It’s hard for me to leave.”

“But we’ll be together.” He tugged her into his arms. “Tonight I’ll help you touch the stars. And when you fall back to earth, I promise to catch you.”

She looked up him, at his tender, intense expression, and lightly cupped his angular jaw.

“What about you, Gabriel? Don’t you want to touch the stars?”

He smiled his slow, sweet smile.

“You’re the only star in my sky.”